3 Pea.Alas! we sat
In happier days, so peacefully beneath
The olives and the vines our fathers rear'd,
Encircled by our children, whose quick steps
Flew by us in the dance! The time hath been
When peace was in the hamlet, wheresoe'er
The storm might gather. But this yoke of France
Falls on the peasant's neck as heavily
As on the crested chieftain's. We are bow'd
E'en to the earth.
Pea. Child.My father, tell me when
Shall the gay dance and song again resound
Amidst our chesnut-woods, as in those days
Of which thou 'rt wont to tell the joyous tale?
1 Pea. When there are light and reckless hearts once more
In Sicily's green vales. Alas! my boy,
Men meet not now to quaff the flowing bowl,
To hear the mirthful song, and cast aside
The weight of work-day care:—they meet, to speak
Of wrongs and sorrows, and to whisper thoughts
They dare not breathe aloud.
Procida. (from the back-ground.) Ay, it is well
So to relieve th' o'erburden'd heart, which pants
Beneath its weight of wrongs; but better far
In silence to avenge them.
An old Pea.What deep voice
Came with that startling tone?
1 Pea.It was our guest's,
